Forbidden Favors

Chapter 1: Late Night Deals

The night was thick with tension when my phone buzzed, slicing through the silence of my dimly lit apartment. It was Erica, my fiery little sister, her name flashing on the screen like a warning sign. I hadn’t heard from her in a week, not since I’d bailed her out with that $500 for rent. I answered with a gruff, 'What’s up?'

'Mark, we need to talk. Now. Can I come over?' Her voice was a mix of desperation and defiance, a cocktail I knew all too well. My pulse quickened, not just from concern, but from the memory of her—caramel skin, tattoos snaking up her thick thighs, and those curves that could stop traffic.

'Sure, come on by,' I said, keeping my tone cool, though my mind was already racing.

When she showed up, it was past midnight. She stormed in, her tiny shirt barely containing her, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else—something raw. 'I’m sorry, Mark. They cut my hours. I can’t pay you back yet,' she spat out, pacing my living room like a caged animal.

I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms, a smirk playing on my lips. 'Well, if you can’t pay, you’re gonna have to do something for me, sis.'

Her eyes narrowed, sharp as knives. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

I stepped closer, lowering my voice to a dangerous purr. 'Remember those late nights? When you’d get all worked up and let me taste you? I’m thinking we revisit that. You let me eat that sweet pussy of yours, and we’re even.'

Her face twisted with fury. 'Fuck you, Mark. I’ll never let you touch me again, you sick bastard.' She spun on her heel and stormed out, the door slamming hard enough to rattle the walls.

I chuckled to myself, knowing she’d be back. And sure enough, hours later, when I was half-asleep, my phone lit up with a text: 'So, if I let you eat me out like before, we’re square?'

I grinned in the dark, typing back, 'That’s the deal. Just until you cum, like old times.'

Her reply was quick, clipped. 'Fine. But that’s it. I’m coming over after work tomorrow. Don’t make this weirder than it has to be.'

The next night, I was a bundle of raw anticipation, pacing my apartment until I heard her car pull up. She walked in, her face a storm of resentment, leggings hugging every curve of her juicy legs and that perfect ass. 'Hurry the fuck up, Mark. I don’t have all night for your bullshit,' she snapped, already peeling down her leggings to reveal a black thong that made my mouth water.

I guided her to my bed, the air between us crackling with unspoken history. She lay back, legs spread, her eyes daring me to cross a line she’d drawn in her mind. 'Get it over with,' she hissed, but I could see the flicker of something else in her gaze—curiosity, maybe even hunger.

I didn’t waste a second, diving between her thighs, my tongue finding her wet, dripping heat. She tried to play it cool, her body stiff at first, but I knew her too well. I worked her with precision, tasting every inch of her sweet pussy, feeling her resistance crumble as her hips started to grind against my face.

'Damn it, Mark,' she growled, her voice breaking into a moan as her hands gripped my head, pulling me closer. Her scent, her taste—it was driving me wild, my cock rock hard against the mattress as I devoured her. She was sweating now, panting, her body betraying every ounce of fight she had left.

I could feel her getting close, her thighs trembling, her breaths coming in sharp gasps. I wanted to push her over the edge, to hear her scream, but part of me dreaded the end of this twisted game. Little did I know, the night was just getting started.